


The Lady's Pet [Revised Working Title]

by Purapine69



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Artificial Insemination, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Bondage, Brainwashing, Breeding, Collars, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Forced-Feeding, Gags, Gen, Gore, Hybrids, Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Slave, Medical Kink, Mental Breakdown, Monsters, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teasing, beastiality, stuffing kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 20:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20917976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purapine69/pseuds/Purapine69
Summary: Yes, this is just the Lady's Pet written by me but since i'm re-writing the story this is just kinda an easier way to pave a new road; the old story will still be up and while I work on it this will be the newer version. So Please bare with me.





	1. Meeting People [Working Name]

A humidly cold breeze blows over me I reach to grab my blanket pulling the soft fur up over my body hopefully shielding me from more wind curling into a tighter ball until the echoing sound of a metal chain snapping tight prevents me from pulling my right leg under the blanket.

“What the-?” I sit up looking around wiping the sleepiness from my eyes as the room comes into focus; I find myself in a cold cobblestone cell chained to the floor by my ankle on a poorly made bed constructed of hay, and furs. “Where the hell am I?” I try to break the chain, try to get my foot free but to avail the shackle locked tight. Thinking back the last thing remembered was falling asleep in Breezehome during the Summer Solstice Festival. This unwelcoming cell clearly a far cry from the warm safety of my own house. My weapons, staff and potions stripped from me; as well as my reinforced elven armor, now my only protection from the unpleasant cold breeze is a poorly made fur blanket and burlap sack pants and shirt. Neither thick enough to keep out a slight breeze let alone the humidity of the cold air in this dungeon.

“Ah, your awake; good.” I hear a voice say I turn to look at my observer a bit shocked I hadn’t noticed him before. Tall, slender with very angler features and a warm golden skin tone.

‘Altmer’ I groan internally eyeing what could be black thalmor robes just lacking the extra gold laced flares my eyes narrow on him sizing up the unknown mer.

“We were wondering when you’d wake up pet.” He says “My name is Arcon but from this day forward you will be calling me master.” He smiles narrowing his eyes at me I growl getting ready for a fight. “Ah-ah” he chides in a reprimanding tone flicking his hand as a painful shock shoots through my body dropping me to my knees.

“AHH! Fucking- Guh!!” I’m shocked again the pain forcing me to curl into a ball on the floor clutching my sides no stranger to magic; this shock is far more potent than even the master storm wielders had ever used on me. “Who are you?!” I yell swiping in his direction as the pain subsides; once again he flicks his hand shocking me into submission.

“We can do this all night pet.” He says in a bored tone “But there are people waiting so it would be beneficial to us both for you to stay down and do as I say.” I glare at him as he raises his hand again quirking a brow to question my challenge to him; not in the mood for anymore blinding pain I move back to my bed the short chain not letting me venture far anyway curling back up in its warmth. “Good girl.” He praises in a mocking tone pulling a collar and leash from his pocket, somewhere I can hear the sound of a heavy door opening and closing followed by equally heavy footsteps. The room my cell was attached to was large and circular from what I could see my cell itself quite generous on the space to which I’m thankful for in some small way instead of being crammed into a trapper’s cage. He unlocks the door seeing my chance to free myself I take it.

“Fu-“ my thu’um cut off with a quick sling of his arm a strange thick liquid akin to Hermaeus Mora’s black sludge like substance in Apocrypha, Arcon flicks his wrist again shocking making me scream in pain from behind my gag. I try to rip the strange gel substance off, my fingers unable to get a solid grip as my hands shake uncontrollably from the aftershocks of his spell. 

“Tsk, tsk you really should learn when there’s no way out.” He chides, the footsteps growing closer, the high elf latches the collar around my neck and frees my ankle of its shackles as a very large, very bulky and very much battle scarred redguard steps into view.

“What’s taking so long.” The man says clearly annoyed.

“Had to wait for her to wake up.” Arcon replies calmly attaching a leash; i lay on the ground forcing him to drag me thankful for the meger rags that are considered prisoner clothes, the burly man look down on me quite literally with a disgusted look.

“Don’t drag animals by their necks.” the redguard reprimands earning him a huff of indignation from the elf who roughly jerks’ the leash forcing me into a crawling position “I don’t know what to hate more how you elves foolishly use your magic or how easily this ‘great hero’ bends to others.” The man remarks his voice low, gruff almost like gravel.

“Maybe she has enough knowledge to know when to listen; Vallen.” Arcon retorts; a sweet smile creeping onto his face. I look at them curiously wondering what they could have planned and why two people seemingly so intent on hating each other would work together.

“Shut your mouth knife ear.” Vallen bites back as he starts to walk back; the redguard man almost as tall as the high elf, but is much stronger built more like an orc than his finely finessed cousins from the Alik’r who were much nicer both personality and appearance wise his face looking as if someone had taken a warhammer to it; and with the numerous scars peeking from behind his thick daedric armor. I honestly wouldn’t doubt someone had at some point in time. With the thick black goo on my mouth and far too exhausted from being shocked at least a good four times within the span of maybe thirty minutes of waking up I’m left to walk on all-fours beside Arcon with Vallen. The faint paper and ash smell and the dusty wet leather taste of the gag has me flashing back to my days at the college and when I’d gotten trapped in Urag’s ‘secret’ scroll room. They lead the way; through winding halls and several sets of ascending and descending staircases the men walking slower as I have to carefully make my way down as to not trip and fall face first into the stone while crawling around.

‘This place surely can’t be as big as it seems.’ I assume looking around as much as I can, trying to take in every detail of my stone prison on our way to wherever.

“I still say you should have woken her up with a bucket of cold water.” Vallen finally says speaking up.

“She’d have been wet, and her temperature, mental state and fatigue would have affected the Lady’s experiments.” Arcon remarks, this catches my attention for the first time during this walk I look up at one of my captors instead of my surroundings. “See, she is calm and relaxed perfectly ready as the Lady wants her to be.”

‘Either; the lady is an alias, which I’m guessing is yes or or her parents aren’t very creative.’ I try to keep a good pace with them my knees and hands hurting from the rough cobble floor; thankful for my leather working skills that toughened up my hands.

“If it wasn’t for her potion neither of us would be able to take her.” Vallen comments; it seems the two started conversing while I thought of an escape plan”

“Meh, meh, meh you just want to get on her good side.” Arcon snaps back sounding hurt that his cohort would discredit his skills.

“She’s weak because of what you did; the misses won’t like that.” Vallen concludes darkly.

“An easy fix with a simple stamina spell.” Arcon looks down at me with a smile, rare for an Altmer to smile unless you count the ones of deranged murderous rage; then yes they do.

“She’s to calm for my taste, she’s plotting something.” Vallen says casting a glance over his shoulder at me. Well he wasn’t wrong I was looking for a window and so far, somehow we hadn’t passed one just stone upon stone, upon more stone; walls, stairs and maybe the occasional door leading into another hall.

“She knows not to act up, unless she wants to find out what it feels like to be cooked from the inside out with another shock.” Arcon cautions pulling my leash hard enough to nearly topple me to the floor, I shiver not wanting another shock let alone find out what other magic he may have up his sleeve. They fall silent as the clink of armor, and echoing of footsteps fill the silence until we come to a large door. Not much unlike the one connecting my cell area to the rest of this fortress; a much larger door made of metal with enough locks on it to make the thieves guild vault look like child’s play to break into. Vallen pushes the door open inside are at least a dozen other mages gathered around a large bed; one of them is seated on a decorated throne, face covered completely with a hood, scent masked. My eyes scan the room as I feel a healing spell warm my skin washing away any pain that may have been left behind from the earlier shocks. The mages in the room ranged from Brenton to Altmer to even Nord and Khajiit the large room rounded like the other room and big enough to be the entire hall of the Blue Palace’s courtyard and entrance hall. My guess is that the woman sitting alone on the throne is the leader; who she is and why she’s gathered such an array of mages is beyond me but I decided not to fight back knowing it’d be smarter to wait and watch before making a move; especially with my thu’um currently inaccessible thanks to the gag. Everyone in the room turns to look at us as we walk in a blindfolded servant wearing a collar and belt closes the door behind us locking it tight, even in this room there’s not a single window, hatch or escape route. As usual all the mages are wearing either black, blue, or grey robes, most preferring black some glow faintly with enchantments while others are run of the mill robes that can be bought and sold in sets for pennies a piece, Arcon can tell I’m starting to hesitate walking slower trying to drag myself along the ground as we reach the bed in the middle of the room all four posts have chains and shackles attached.

‘Of course they do, because it’d be to fucking easy otherwise.’ I huff as I’m picked up by Vallen and set on the bed jerking away from his grip when he grabs one of my arms to latch into one of the shackles; on instinct I twist aiming a punch directly at his face when i’m met with the same crippling shock forcing me to fall on the bed curled in pain. Casting a glance over to Arcon he’s got the same bored expression on his face, the glint in his eyes almost daring me to try it again. The other mages now on edge as I look around the room; the woman being the only calm one in the lot at the moment the rest look ready to pounce me. Reluctantly I let Vallen strap me in with only a few grunts and jerks at my chains forcing me spread eagle on the large bed. The room has a few tables dotting around the edges, some filled with soul gems, others miscellaneous tools, and the larger tables have food and drink; several bookcases line the walls as well the major source of light in the large room being four huge chandeliers.

Vallen removes my sticky black gag after he receives a nod from their leader, he bends over me whispering in my ear

“Show us your power dragonborn”


	2. Into The Mix

“Show us your power dragonborn.” Vallen says to me, I roll my eyes keeping my mouth shut. He can command me all he wants doesn’t mean I have to listen. The room stays silent waiting for my response as time slowly ticks by until he breaks the silence again “Don’t feel like using your thu’um?” he asks mockingly “That shouldn’t be a problem” he sits up and switches places with Arcon.

“Hello again.” He says cheerfully patting my head.

“Bite me.” I snarl, looking away from him to the left of the bed is Vallen, a Nord, a Bosmer with notably sharp teeth and a Dunmer both mer have war paint on their face. The dunmer has a violet scale pattern crawling over his skin while the Bosmer has a flower on his left cheek.

“It’s rude to ignore someone.” I hear him scold seconds before another shock came. The metal attaching me to the bed amplifying the spells effects, I bite down hard on my tongue not enough to draw blood but enough to let me focus on something if not only for a second until the spell faded. “We’ll try this again.” He says his tone colder, darker almost threatening “Hello pet.” I give him the bird before looking away once more.

“Are you going to answer me or not.” I yawn getting comfy in the mattress ignoring him; his eye twitches as he raises his hand again. The shock hitting me harder this time forcing a strangled cry of pain from me, biting into my bottom lip drawing blood as my body jerks and spasms from the pain lasting far longer than before; I drop to the bed body aching; my mind a bit dazed as I regain control over my limbs.

“Answer me.” He demands; my gaze drifts over to him, face twisted in anger as he scowls at me. My response is giving him a self-satisfied smirk as expected comes another shock more painful then the last I blackout from the pain; how long it lasted, I have no idea but I know I was awoken with a harsh slap across the face.

“Keep shocking her and we’ll lose our subject.” The nord scolds his steel gloved hand left an imprint on my left cheek.

“I know what I’m doing human.” Arcon hisses.

“Doubt it, your knowledge about the human body isn’t as insurmountable as your age old one.” The nord retorts, he’s the very definition of Nord, blonde hair coupled with icy blue eyes with a fire behind them the nord people were known for.

“Yukian don’t start.” An argonian mage chides to my right he’s moss green with small patches of brown on his face.

“Yukian.” I repeat everyone in the room looking at me, their leader has her hands folded in her lap one leg crossed over the other still calm, still unreadable.

The nord shoots Arcon a triumphant smile before cupping my face as if waiting for the answer the other two never got.

“You’ve cabbage in your teeth.” I state bluntly; Arcon snorts trying to stifle a laugh as the nord grips my face smashing it into a fish face. 

“What did you just say.” I can feel his muscles tense looking as if he wants to punch me.

‘Ah pride. . the downfall of many; also a common trait of nords. How simple he is’ I muse smiling at him.

“Said you got cabbage in your teeth, should really brush better you know.” Arcon and a few other mages share a laugh at the nords expense. “Glad you all find it funny since he’s probably going to-“ Yukian back hands me his gauntlet leaving small cuts in my skin that start to well with blood; the room falls silent save his angry huffing. “You hit like a pussy, you magically inept mage.” If there’s one thing I know it’s that nords don’t take to kindly; or at least most nords don’t when you insult their skills. Especially the magical ones since it’s so strongly rejected in their culture, he clenches his fist winding it back for another hit.

“Yukian.” Their leader finally speaking up, everyone turns to look the redness in his face draining instantly. “What do you think you are doing?” the question of course rhetorical as he drops his hand backing off without her saying another word. Her presence trumps them all even from here I feel as if cold, vice like tentacles wrapping around gripping me tightly; almost suffocatingly tight. She waves over one of the mages a Brenton woman with a scar running width wise across her neck walks over as she whispered something to her.

“She says, if the dragonborn refuses to be compliant then we may begin with the first step of our plan.” The brenton says before walking back into the mess of mages.

“And what exactly is your plan?” I tilt my head as far back as it can go to look at the woman dressed in void black robes, darker than any of her companions are wearing.

“You’re in no position to ask the questions.” Arcon replies coldly.

“No.” the lady says standing and walking over to me, I can visibly see everyone else in the room tense giving her a wide berth as she stands next to the bed on my right. “Let her talk.” Her voice is smooth, calm, calculating even with her eyes covered I can feel them burrow into me as if looking for something inside me to break me. “Welcome to my castle.” she greets smoothly as if I wasn’t tied to a bed in some podunk, unknown location full of crazies. “You may address me as your majesty.”

“Hello there.” I nod my head acknowledging her “Quite the wake-up call I got; if you wanted to see my powers you could have just out right asked.”

“I’m not interested in your thu’um dragonborn.” She replies calmly.

“Then what are you interested in? I mean this by no means looks like a small operation.” I gester around the room as best as I can to all the mages and rare alchemical items lining the shelves; Elenwen has nothing on this woman, fair cream-white skin tells me she’s human or at least the small part of her chin that I can see but with mages you never know especially ones like these where it could all be an illusion. That witch a few years back caught and interrogated me luckily for me we were alone and she and I spent 5 hours together at most before the Companions broke in the door to the poorly hidden secret dungeon she’d made. The bitch made her escape but even the few moments I spend in the lady’s presence makes the old elf look like a day at the beach in the isles.

“In you.” She pokes at my heart. “Everything you can and ever will be; will be mine.” I roll my eyes many people who’ve tried to break me before have said the same thing and all those people ended up dead at my feet, she trails her finger down my torso taking her time to outline my battle scars and belly button. “Most of us are here to see what the legendary dragonborn’s body can bare.”

“And, the others?”

“Research.”

“Again asking, it’s a wonderful thing; try it ten out of ten times you’ll usually get help.” She chuckles running her finger up my body and letting it flick off my chin.

“This is your life now dragonborn, you will bend to my will-“

“And if I die before that happens.” I cut her off, challenging her to dare to kill her precious research subject. If what Arcon said was true and that my body and mental state has to be at a certain level then her and her little gang can’t afford to hurt me too badly.

“You won’t.”

“And how can you be so sure?” I respond in a snarky mocking tone; she stays silent her hand moving to cup my left cheek healing the injury Yukian gave me her thumb soothing the healing skin. 

She leans down pressing her lips to my ear “You’re going to be fun.” she whispers before backing off “Make her scream.” She commands Arcon and the Argonian step forward “Start with phase one.” The moment her touch leaves my body the same painful shock wave hits me again, chains and wood creak and rattle as my body convulses tearing a scream of sheer pain from me. Periodically blacking out from the pain and being awoken with the same intense pain; I can feel parts of my body start to singe the smell of cooking flesh faintly permeates the air, my heart feeling as if it’s stuck in the vice grip of a giant squeezing with all it’s might, tears unwillingly spill from my eyes as the minutes slowly tick past until the spell finally dissipates leaving my fingertips and tongue slightly blackened and burned as my wounds start to heal both from my resilient dragonblood and the argonians’ magic, restoring my body in full as well as my stamina. I lay on the bed panting my vision blurry with tears as I try to calm myself sniffling from the spell. I can tell a few of the mages were getting off to my screams of pain flushed expressions coupled with hungry eyes, don’t hide the fact they enjoyed watching me writhe.

Arcon looks over to the lady who gives him a ‘go on’ motion.

“From the top dragonborn, Show us your power.” Arcon commands smugly knowing now I’d answer him.

“W-which one?” I choke out defeated; voice hoarse from screaming, I can hear a few of the mages chuckle to themselves as I advert my eyes away from the altmer.

“Fire Breath” I sigh wiping away my tears as much as I can on the bed.

Yol

Toor

Shoul

As I speak the last word I spit fire into the air lighting up the room even more casting strong black shadows on the floor and walls.

“Good girl.” Arcon praises patting me on the head after the fire dissipates. “Keep it up and tonight should be easy for you” his usual cheerful tone back and smiling at me.

“Do it again.” He commands, I take a deep breath speaking the words once more and spitting another ball of fire into the air, he pats my head applauding me once again. “Now. . .think you can stay nice and quiet for us?” I open my mouth to ask why but his hand raises ready to cast that accursed spell again; my mouth snapping shut as I look up at the ceiling. “Good girl.” He praises moving a pillow or two under my head so I can finally see the rest of my body; before my chest having been in the way of most of it.

“I’d say we’re ready.” One of the other Nords’ female walks over to the table with miscellaneous tools and brings over a large case of knifes, soul gems, potions and other various magic and alchemical items; a servant as if already knowing her master's wishes brings over a table letting the woman set the tools down on it going back to stand by the door; the bosmer with the flower on his left cheek rips off my clothes with ease. Snapping his fingers the same servant grabs a bucket from under one of the large tables with a cloth bringing it to him along with a thick green looking liquid he easily slices through the burlap clothing easily tearing away the nearly chared rags. Wetting the cloth he wipes down my body cleaning the sweat from it, the bed beneath me still soaked; he rubs the liquid into my abdomen working it in slowly the strong smell of distilled alcohol and ash fill my nose.

‘Disinfectant’ I think not paying much mind to Arcon until I hear the familiar sound of metal on rock or more accurately a knife rubbing against a whetstone.

“What do you plan to do with that?” I ask feeling a hint of fear creep into my voice uncounsily testing the restraints; it wouldn’t be the first nor will it be the last time someone cut into me but most of those times they were cult members with little prep and poor execution even for the more meticulous cults or the cutting of iron into my flesh from the weapon of an enemy.

“Hm? Did you say something?” he inquires playfully the bosmer wetting the cloth again working off every last bit of dirt.

“I said-“ Arcon turns to me a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Didn’t you say you’d stay quiet?” he reminds raising his free hand as a silent threat, I shut my mouth trying to ignore what was going to happen attempting to subtly test my restraints again. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to patch me together having been in the legion until the Empire took Skyrim on the battlefield the larger ones at least I’d have to stitch my own wounds together using whatever I could find. But his is a far different situation from me having to do something to being held down and made to take it.

“Just, don’t touch my heart.” I mumble the servant bringing over a pot of ink as the Bosmer draws a line down my stomach; from the dip of my sternum to my hip line.

Arcon hums happily as some of the mages pull up chairs while others take a seat further away. “Wasn’t planning too.” He states calmly “Don’t worry we know what we’re doing.”

‘Yeah, that’s supposed to make me feel better’ I remark sarcastically in my head, the olive skinned elf handing the bucket and bottle back to the servant who quickly leaves and comes back replacing the water, setting it by his feet.

“Relax, and don’t move it’ll make the cut easier.” the high elf asserts cleaning the scalpel as he turns to me setting it at the start of the cut line gently pressing it into my flesh as the razor sharp implement starts to draw blood. “Deep breath now.” Never having been one listen to someone I didn’t know, it seemed like perfect time to start; I suck in as much air as I can the blade sinking deeper into my flesh as he starts to make the first cut. My entire body goes rigid praying to the divines that he nor I don’t slip up external beatings I can take but having such a sharp object wielded by an unknown mer as he works on my body as a mortician would work on the dead scares me more than I’d ever admit. Blood pooling at the opening of the cut, more filling the gap and spilling onto the bed as he presses harder cutting deeper into my flesh slicing through muscle and fat with each pass of his knife; his expression calm, relaxed as if he’d practiced this a thousand times, than a thousand more just for fun. Every nerve in my body screaming telling me to use my shouts, use my power and try to flee or at least stop the bleeding. Knowing better so he doesn't slip up I stay as still as death the male Bosmer uses some damp rags to dab up the blood in some areas where it started to bleed excessively.

“Almost done.” Arcon comments putting a bloody hand on my shoulder rubbing it as if to reassure me; after the third or fourth cut the servant comes back over with a tray of hooks and lines hooking them into my open wound pulling my abdomen open a thin film of mucus membrane tearing easily as my midsection is opened and put on display for all. It’s the first time I’d ever seen my insides adrenaline coursing through my body, as fear takes over; every twitch and jerk of my intestines’ is a horror show I could never imagine, seeing others is fine but my own is too much for even me. I release my held breath starting to hyperventilate chest heaving as more blood seeps into my open cavity arms and legs twisting and jerking trying to get free. The warm air of the room stinging the sensitive organs as they carelessly slosh around barely held in place.

“Calm yourself.” Arcon scolds clamping a bloody hand around my neck; the added weight freaks me out more the feeling of heat building in the back of my throat ready to roast him and anyone else. Reacting quickly the bosmer covering my eyes pressing my head into the pillow as a calm spell is cast on me, my heartbeat slowing some as I become a bit more pliant small wisps of smoke escape my mouth. “Lithaur, heal the wounds on the sides, she’ll sort herself out.”

“If she breaks mentally then you’re to blame, remember that Arcon.” Lithaur argues as he casts a low-level healing spell closing my open wound where the hooks pull my abdomen open, the high elf taking his hand off my neck to resume his work; Lithaur’s still casting a calm spell a bloodied hand rubs my arm gently trying to calm me further as the Altmer pokes around my insides. The clinking of metal on metal and the cold kiss of steel on my skin as my brain racing wondering what they’re doing to me.

“Should we give her the injection now?” an unfamiliar female voice asks.

“Yes, it will take time to heal even with our magic but since I doubt she’ll be as compliant later.” Arcon says “Get the needle ready.” He commands his hands leaving no part of my insides untouched placing things into my body or rubbing in some strange liquid. The feeling of someone poking around my insides so meticulously certainly a novel feeling one of the two mer with amazing bedside manners is keeping me calm; or at least as calm as one could get in this situation. With each beat of my bearly sedated heart it splashes blood onto my chest, shoulders and neck.

“Must you try to do everything at once?” I hear Lithaur snap at the altmer dried blood sticks to my skin the strong smell of iron fills the air. “We will have more time later otherwise I’m cutting you off.”

“For someone who fancies himself as a master in the art of illusions you sure don’t have patience.” Arcon retorts.

“Unlike you who will only deal with her physical body, others of us need her calmer mentally.” Lithaur reprimands.

“Stop bickering you two Arcon listen to him, your stubbornness will be detrimental to us all.” The lady interrupts; Arcon sighs, annoyance clear in tone.

“Fine, after the injection it will take the longest to heal.”

“That is fine.” She agrees as the footsteps come back the clinking of something metal on a tray.

“Don’t let her move.” Arcon commands stabbing somewhere in my lower abdomen injecting me with a searing hot liquid, hotter than dragon fire; I scream writhing one of my unidentified organs slipping from its place in my pained panic coupled with the warm wet feeling of my own blood and now free organ kick starting my panic once more, sweat starting to bead on my forehead and fall onto the bed my moving ripping some of the hooks from me tearing away small bits of flesh with them a few catching on other parts of my body pulling and ripping tears into my skin, as blood starts to pool inside my open abdomen the sicking sounds of slocking not nearly as loud as my screams of blind terror my right arm and left leg tearing the bedposts free of the frame giving me some leeway to get up, somehow in my frenzy I hit lithur and twisted enough to bite arcon’s hip; several chairs scrape on the ground one of the argonian mages manages to grab the chain just barely stopping a face crushing blow from smashing into Yukian I manage to pull my other arm free leaving only my leg tethered to the now destroyed wooden bed. A paralysis spell goes rouge and missed me hitting one of the other mages in my panic I make it off the bed several of my organs now spwen about the bed and floor as I tear into the throat of a servant attempting to subdue me. Several others injured in my fire attack my free hand mindlessly grabbing at my abdomen in an attempt to keep what’s left inside.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” I roar sending one or two of the mages flying; swinging my arm the poor argonian still holding the chain is thrown into one of his colleagues and impaled upon the broken post. One of the lighter robed mages ducks under my swing attempting to throw me off balance by sweeping my legs only to be kicked throw the heavy metal door across the room; dizzy from blood loss and high on adrenaline I manage to dig my teeth into the throat of one of the mages tearing it out before i’m hit with a powerful paralysis spell.

“Stitch her up.” The lady commands with an exasperated sigh several of her juniors left to die or drown in their own blood as I'm placed back on the bed and my organs reassembled inside me, Arcon leaves the rest for the healers Lithuar covering my eyes once more as a healing spell was cast the only other set of hands I can feel is of someone sewing my stomach back together; the bosmer leans down whispering comforting words into my ear his hand still over my eyes. He rubs my newly scared belly.

“Shhh...it’s over now. Calm....calm.” he murmurs in a soothing voice before calling over Vallen who trusses me up fairly tight wedging a large gag between my teeth to prevent any more usage of my thu’um.

“She won’t cause more problems; No?” I hear a male khajiit ask holding an injured arm close.

“Not when she’s like this.” Vallen motions lifting me up over his shoulder “I’ll take her back to her cell.” 

“Myriad go with him and make sure she doesn't die from blood loss.” The lady commands the woman in question runs after us twirling a bloody curl around her fingers.

“Might want to keep your hands to yourself May she might bite it off.” he warns was we walk past the argonian his blood a stark contrast to the grey cobblestone wall.

“She’s fine.” Myriad replies casting a sleeping spell “Nighty night.” she coos as I drift off to sleep both humming a soft tune as the world fades to black.

**Author's Note:**

> As always Please Comment or Leave a Kudos it really helps motivate me and the Comments I just love to read since it lets me know what you guys think of my works!!


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